
I am, admittedly, a big flirt. I love everything about the exchange of getting to know another person. The playful banter. The rush of dopamine. The sexual subtlety and subtext of everything not said. Flirting, to me, remains one of the last human endeavors where people are intentionally trying to find common ground. It’s pure possibility, absolute magnetism. It’s also an art that can’t be faked, or—despite Silicon Valley’s best attempts—perfected by AI.
That, of course, didn’t stop Big Dating from going all in on virtual intimacy this year, during which the focus shifted from endless swipes to AI-powered matchmaking. As the narrative around dating fatigue reached new heights, the trend toward sincere connection was an overdue correction by an industry that, across the last decade, built itself on ruthless scale, maniacal ambition, and profit incentives, only to realize that the answer was right in front of them all along: You win by investing in people.
The integration of AI tools wasn’t simply about keeping up with the Joneses or leaning into new innovations (though it was some of that). For once it was more than just talk: Big Dating was seeking absolution for its sins.
Where dating apps once conspired to retain users by any means, AI presented an opportunity to connect people faster and, perhaps, forever. It led many companies to reconsider their user experience. According to a Pew Research Center study a few years ago, in the US, almost 60 percent of single adults said they were not currently looking for a relationship or casual dates. And while we aren’t exactly in a romantic recession—active users remain high; not to mention that Facebook Dating is a secret hit among Gen Z—overall user engagement among several apps, according to analytics firm Apptopia, has decreased by 7 percent year-over-year. (Yes, even in spite of one Belgian artist’s bizarre attempt to match people based on their browser history.)
It’s not a crisis or anything of the sort—hundreds of millions of people still swipe, scroll, and like on a daily basis—Big Dating just desperately needed to repair its reputation. AI looked like an answer.
In October, Three Day Rule, the veteran matchmaking service, launched a matchmaker-trained AI app called Tai that offers real-time coaching. Grindr, which is on a quest to become the ultimate global gayborhood by going “AI native,” is using tools from Anthropic and Amazon on its wingman feature and chat summaries (though some users weren’t happy about the app’s broad embrace of machine tech). Iris, Rizz, and Elate also rolled out AI features to help users navigate the early talking stages.
In a year where everyone had Love Island USA on the brain, yearners made a comeback, right-wing influencers campaigned for a larger stake in the dating zeitgeist, and virtual relationships saw record growth—as anecdotally did divorces caused by AI affairs. (According to a report by TechCrunch, the AI companion market has grown more than 96 percent since 2024.) Tinder, meanwhile, underwent a brand refresh and tried to attract more Gen Z users. “The biggest issue that we’re concerned with … is the bulk creation of new accounts,” Yoel Roth, head of trust and safety for Match Group, told WIRED in October following the launch of Tinder’s mandatory face verification update.
